Rickicidal Thoughts
by JuniperHen
Summary: Rick got pretty messed up after the events of Auto Erotic Assimilation. Distraught and alone, he decided to take the easy way out.
1. Wubba Lubba Dub Dub

Rick Sanchez woke up at his desk, not certain how long he had been there. His head was resting in a pile of...something. There was broken glass everywhere. Getting up, he began to remember the details of what had happened. Oh, right. Unity had left him and he tried to kill himself. But why was there a blanket over his shoulders? That certainly wasn't there before.

"Grandpa Rick?" Rick heard a small voice from the doorway. Summer.

"Rick? Are you okay?" asked another voice. Morty! How long had Morty been there?

"Yeah...I'm fine."

"You were here for days, Rick. We were worried. We thought you had died or something."

Days? Shit, they were both crying. Fuuuck.

"I'm fine, kids. Jesus Christ. I'm fucking fine." His voice was cracking, which made him realize how much his throat hurt. Water. He needed water. He stood up, attempting to hide his uncontrollably shaking legs as he took a few steps toward the door, but stumbled and fell to the floor. Without a word, Morty held out his flask for him. Rick took it with unspoken gratitude. It weighed enough to be full, leading him to the conclusion that Morty had refilled it while he was unconscious. He took a huge swig of liquor and sat up, refreshed.

"What happened to you?" Summer whispered, horrified by the scene in front of her. Rick didn't answer.

"What happened?" Summer pressed.

A disturbing pause followed.

"Wubba lubba dub dub."

Without another word, he got up and began staggering stiffly into the kitchen. It was when he glanced at the mirror that he realized how awful he truly looked. His hair was unkempt and sticking out all over the place, his lab coat was stained with various fluids, his clothes were wrinkled, he had a fresh cut on his forehead that had bled a little, and he was covered in dust and glass particles. No wonder the kids were concerned. He was an absolute wreck. Not like it mattered anymore. Nothing mattered anymore, and it never truly did. It was all just a big fucking lie. And Rick was okay with this. It was okay that existence brought nothing but pain and suffering for Rick Sanchez. It was okay because he knew that his existence was coming to a close.

For his second try, he was going to stay sober.


	2. AIDS Would Be Better Than This

Evening came fast, thank God. Morty and Summer were eyeing him all throughout dinner. They were on the verge of figuring out what had happened, and they had debated it for quite a while, but he was eventually able to convince them otherwise. Everyone went to bed as if nothing had happened, just as he wanted, and everybody was asleep. Nobody could stop him.

Rick went to his room, careful to be silent as he ascended the staircase. It felt like he was trapped in an emotionless void. He didn't feel happiness, sorrow, anger, or regret. He didn't feel much of anything. He just trudged slowly up the stairs, unfeeling, unthinking, staring blankly ahead with a glazed look in his eyes. It was almost like he was already dead. When he finally arrived at his room, he turned the doorknob gently and snuck in, especially careful not to wake anyone. He gently closed the door behind him so that nobody would be able to see him. He had to be careful. He only had one shot at this. He pulled out the rope he'd found in the garage, climbed up onto a chair, and secured the rope to the ceiling as high as he could reach. Then he tied the end around his awaiting neck and braced himself.

"This is it," he whispered to himself. "The end of the smartest bastard in the universe. May the world function better without his existence."

Rick took his hands off the rope. He was ready.

"Be good, Morty. Don't you dare make the same mistakes I did, and…watch over Beth for me. I know it's a dick move to leave her again, but I know she'll find a way. She's my girl, after all, and you're such a good helper. Oh, Morty…"

He gulped. A single tear rolled down his cheek.

"I love you."

Rick stepped off the chair, embracing the tight pull around his neck as it consumed him. It felt so good to finally feel something, even though it was the object killing him. At the very least, it was something…then the sensation quickly escaped him. His thoughts were gone. Everything around him was fading. His room, his family, his planet, and his reality were all slowly disappearing. He closed his eyes, allowing the universe around him to turn to darkness. All he could see was a sliver of light from the doorway. Everything was leaving him all at once. It felt like a weight was being lifted off his shoulders. He felt light, as if he was soaring on air. As if he was being…lifted up? Why did his neck suddenly feel loose? Opening his eyes, he was confronted with his daughter's horrified face.

"Dad…?"

"Beth, what are you-"

"Dad! How could you do this to yourself? How could you do this to us?"

"Beth, I…"

He couldn't find the words to continue. Beth cut the rope and helped her father down onto his bed. Upon seeing the heartbroken look in her eyes, Rick threw his head into his hands and released a broken sob. Before he even realized what he was doing, before he could stop, he just began weeping emptily to himself. Beth leaned him against her shoulder as he continued his hysterical sobbing. When she felt his warm tears seeping into her shirt, Beth pulled her trembling father closer and rested his head on her chest. She shuddered for a moment. Her father never cried like this. It was like he had suddenly become a completely different person. But he was still her father. And it took her a moment to realize that he had wrapped his arms around her, returning her loving embrace.

"I'm sorry," Rick whispered, voice shaking.

"It's okay. I just don't understand what would make you do such a thing."

"You couldn't. Nobody does."

"Then what can I do to help you?"

Rick pulled away and shook his head. "Nothing."

Beth sighed. "Come on, Dad. Let's go sit on the couch and have a drink."

Rick, still red-eyed and teary, stood and followed her down the stairs. She poured them each a large glass of wine and beckoned him to the couch. He sat next to her and mindlessly took a sip of wine, unable to really look at her. There was a disturbing silence for a couple minutes.

"I love you," said Beth, doing her best to sound as sincere as possible. "You know that, right?"

"Yeah."

Another silence.

"Mom?" a sleepy voice asked from the staircase. They had woken up Morty. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Rick replied, not even bothering to turn around and look at him.

"Dad!" Beth scolded. She turned to face Morty, her face solemn. "Morty, your grandfather tried to commit suicide."

"AGAIN?!" Morty stood there for a moment, frozen in shock. "Rick, why do you want to die so badly? I know exactly what you did in the garage! W-W-Why did you try again?"

"Morty, it's fine." Rick dismissively waved him away. He still didn't look away from the floor. "Go back to bed."

"No. I'm staying here with you," Morty said, trying to sound stern. His voice cracked on the last word, which finally caused Rick to turn around. Morty's eyes were spilling over with tears, much to his grandfather's surprise. He stormed over to the couch and sat down. "Mom, remember how weird Rick was acting before he went into the garage and stayed for a couple days?"

"Yes."

"He was acting like that because he was about to kill himself. Summer and I saw him two days later. He was completely unconscious and there was a creepy device right over him…and there was broken glass everywhere…and he…" Morty trailed off, crying. He turned to Rick and clung to him tightly. "Please don't do it again, Grandpa Rick. I don't want you to die."

"Morty…" Rick was speeches. So was Beth, who he realized was staring directly at him.

"Dad, you tried to kill yourself twice?"

"Yeah, I did. Don't worry about it. It doesn't matter anymore."

Beth's lip started trembling. "I can't believe you're trying to leave again. You almost succeeded…you almost left us forever."

"I didn't die, Beth. I guess you're lucky I suck at killing myself."

Beth was crying now, too. "Dad, you're important to us and we love you. You can't just abandon us! That's cruel!"

"I'm not trying to do anything to your lives but make them easier. If I'm gone, I'm gone. I'll never get in your way again."

Beth desperately wanted to respond, but found herself incapable of talking through her tears. Rick was shocked at the reaction he was getting from Beth and Morty. Well, he _had_ been expecting something like this from Morty, but definitely not this extreme. They were both crying so hard they couldn't speak. What had he done to make them so dependent on him?

"What's wrong with you two?" he asked, then quickly took a large sip of wine. "You're weeping over me like a five year old would over a dead dog! And I'm not even dead yet! What the hell?"

"What's wrong with US?" Morty practically exploded at the statement, causing Rick to jump at his sudden outburst. "WHAT'S WRONG WITH US?!"

"Whoa, Morty, calm down for a min-"

"Shut the hell up, Rick! You're a total piece of shit, you know that?" Morty, though he was still a mess of tears, was absolutely fuming with anger. "You could have chosen to fight through your problems and solve them for good, but you just decided to die instead of having to face them yourself. And you call ME cowardly!"

"Morty-"

"You only care about yourself! We're your family and we love you! I-I-I bet you never stopped to think about how this could affect us! In fact, I wouldn't even be surprised if you didn't because you just don't care because it's not your problem! If you died, you wouldn't have had to deal with the aftermath like we would've had to! You wouldn't ever have to deal with anything again, but what you'd be forcing us to deal with…it's unthinkable! You must hate us to make us go through all that!" His tone lost all anger and went back to a shaky, sorrowful whisper of a voice. "You're my grandpa and my best friend. I'd hardly be able to exist without you. I can't believe that all we've been through together meant nothing to you. It meant the world to me…You mean the world to me. Do I really not mean anything to you? Do any of us mean anything to you?"

Rick trembled for a moment in shock. What he was about to say was more than he was willing to admit, but he said it because he felt he had to. It was important. "Morty, you mean everything to me. I truly thought it would be better for you if I was gone. Your parents were right all along. I'm not a good influence on you or your sister. Especially you. I knew that, but I kept hanging around you because I didn't care that much about what happened. But now, after I did it, all I can feel is regret for ruining your life. It was fun, but it wasn't good for you. You could have gotten injured or killed, and I'm not quite sure what I would have done with myself if you were…I'm sorry."

Nobody could really speak after that. Beth and Morty leaned into Rick and cried, while he took each of them in an arm and silently wept with them. It went like that for hours as they sorted things out in their own heads, silently supporting each other as they cried the night away.


	3. Good Morning, Rick

Everyone was solemn at breakfast. Summer and Jerry, having no knowledge of the night before, were carefully avoiding the topic because everyone else seemed upset about…something. They definitely weren't going to ask.

"Aren't we going to tell them?" Morty asked his mother, gesturing vaguely to his clueless sister and father.

"Yeah, what's up with you guys today?" Jerry finally asked. "You three look like you just saw a ghost."

"We…kind of did," said Beth. She looked absolutely haunted.

"What happened?" asked Summer, not exactly certain she wanted to hear the answer. She hadn't ever seen Morty or her mother looking like this. ESPECIALLY not Rick, whose eyes were empty like those of a corpse.

"Grandpa Rick tried to kill himself again," Morty explained.

"What?" Summer sat still for a moment, shocked, as her eyes began to fill with tears.

"This is why I don't want him living with us!" Jerry burst out. "Look at what he's done to our kids, Beth! I told you something like this would happen!"

"Jerry! Are you TRYING to make him blow his brains out here and now? He needs help and you're blaming it on him! That's awful!"

"HE'S AWFUL!"

"HE'S NOT! YOU'RE THE AWFUL ONE!"

"HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY IT? YOUR FATHER IS A TERRIBLE INFLUENCE ON OUR CHILDREN!"

"MY FATHER HAS SAVED THEIR LIVES! HE'S NOT TERRIBLE!"

"Actually, Beth," Rick interrupted quietly. "I've got to side with Jerry on this one."

The entire room went silent.

"Are you messing with me?" asked Jerry, alarmed by Rick's sudden change of heart. "This is a joke, right? Of course it is. You're probably about to make fun of me for speaking my opinion. You're not being serious, right?"

"I am. As much as I hate to admit it, Jerry, you're right. I'm the worst thing to happen to this family and staying here was the biggest mistake I've ever made. For what it's worth, I'm sorry I ruined your lives." Rick got up and started wandering towards the liquor cabinet. "I'm gonna get a drink."

And he was out, leaving the rest of the family to take in everything he had said.

"Oh my God," Jerry muttered. "He's completely lost himself…I wonder how long he's been like this without us noticing."

"Long enough to allow him to attempt suicide twice," said Beth, casting aside her uneaten breakfast to make room on the table for a bottle of wine. "How could we have let him get this far out of hand?"

"We have to help him," Summer stated firmly. "I'm not going to let my grandpa suffer like this. He needs pills or therapy or voodoo or something!"

"He's not going to be open to therapy," Beth reminded. "But we could try antidepressants."

"He'll just take the whole bottle at once with vodka and sleeping pills," said Morty. "Or he'll blow them off and throw them out. I hate to be the one to say this, but I'm not sure we can help him."

"We can't just do nothing, though!" Summer exclaimed. "I can't believe you're just giving up on him after everything he's done for you!"

"He's not good for us, Summer!" Morty looked absolutely disgusted. "Listen to yourself! He's made you into a mindless slave!" He took a deep breath to calm himself. "I've been thinking about what he said last night. He and Dad are right when they say he isn't good for us to be around all the time. I respect your devotion, but you can't be so dependent on someone who isn't guaranteed to be there for you when you need them. Some people just can't be saved. Rick…Rick might be one of those people. That's a fact you're going to have to accept someday."

Summer began tearing up. "I know that we probably can't do much, but we have to at least try to help him. It's important that we put in the effort while we still can. I'm not…" She held back a sob, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'm not about to show up to my grandfather's funeral knowing that I let him die without doing anything to help!"

"That's what Rick would do!" Jerry interrupted. The entire room went silent.

"Rick might do that," Summer said flatly. "But I won't. No matter what kind of person he is."

That was when Rick, who was listening from the other room, just couldn't listen any more. He needed a break from his family. He took out his portal gun and went to someone he knew he could talk to. Birdperson always knew what to say.


End file.
